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Claremont Academy Friday, December 9 3:42 PM The trees were busy. Lilly was still coming into her connection to the ephemeral to a certain degree. She had the basics down and knew her oak from her holly, but she was still trying to understand so much about spirits. Their language, their politics, their intricacies... it was a lot to take in. But she at least felt she knew something. Like how some tree spirits should be dormant in the winter. But here they were - the oak, the cedar - gathering on the grounds of Claremont and associating with their brethren. And they seemed to be knocking on the trunks of the sleeping trees, trying to get in. --- Lincoln Friday, December 9 6:32 PM It was already dark, but winter did that. It just meant more time to patrol. Unfortunately, while the cold never quite bothered her, nights of balancing crime fighting and finals prep did, which was why Temperance was feeling a bit reluctant to take to the sky this evening. After about 15 minutes on the ice sledge, she realized she'd need something hot and caffeinated if she wanted to avoid the world's most embarrassing - if unique - collision. She set the sledge down outside of a 7-Eleven, somehow managing to find a parking space that had not been claimed by a lawn chair in preparation of the oncoming snow. "Excuse me." Temperance turned to find a man in a green Eisenhower jacket and Smokey hat lurking in the corner. "They say you're the water girl around her," he said. "Well, one of them. They didn't exactly have contact info, but the police said I might be able to find you around here." "I'm one of the ones who deal with water, yes. But if the police sent you to me, I imagine it's a bit... stranger than that." The man extended his hand. "Jack Perkins, National Parks Service," he said. He reached into his jacket, pulling out a folder and handing it to Temperance. "We had a... recent incident, and was wondering you might be able to bring your particular insight to it." Temperance flipped open the folder, only to be hit with a crime scene. An SUV, covered in mud and wet leaves, lay on the edge of a snow-covered shore, a tow cable hitched to the back. The next photo showed the interior of the car, and the body sitting in the front seat. The man was dressed in winter woodsman gear, complete with watchman's cap, and had that particular coloration one might associate with a drowned man. Hell of a way to start the evening. Still, Temperance had to maintain her composure to sell the mystique. She looked to Jack. "These photos are telling me a story, and I'm guessing it's not the obvious one." "The deceased is Thomas Laurent. 29, former lineman working out of Barnegat. We found a chainsaw and pitons in his car - logging equipment. He was in the middle of Wharton." Wharton. A picture was starting to come together in her mind. She knew it was the wrong one, but she didn't know just what she was looking for yet. "So, the theory is, he was engaged in illegal logging, drove out into a snowy glade, parked on a frozen lake, and went through the ice. But I'm guessing there's something wrong with that picture..." Jack nodded. "The car was in park when it was extracted from the lake. But there were tire treads running 200 feet from the shore. And, according to our forensics guys, the tires were not running when the car make its trip. It's as if... something pushed it into the lake." Temperance studied the photos again. She thought she might be seeing things, but the front bumper looked a little loose. "Or dragged it."